Enough
by moreheartlessattack
Summary: Because now Blaine is ugly-crying into Kurt's silk pajamas on a beautiful Saturday morning for absolutely no reason at all, and he can't help the feeling that this is it. This will be the moment Kurt finally gives up on him, once and for all. (depressed!blaine, married!klaine)


**I never watched season 6 when it first came out because I got sick of all the Klaine break-ups. After three years, I've re-realized how adorable and precious these two and started back again in season 3 (I have watched 6x08 and some clips from other season 6 episodes).**

 **And, being the slightly wiser barely-adult I am now instead of the sixteen year old I was when I first watched Glee, I'm starting to wonder why it was never obvious to anyone else what the root of all Kurt and Blaine's relationship problems were. I mean...it seems pretty clear to me that Blaine's got some serious self-esteem issues. But they only talked about that for, like, one episode in season 5 and it was never brought up again.**

 **So, this is my head-canon fill in. It's been over a year since I've really written any prose, but I'm trying to ease myself back into it. Please let me know your thoughts!**

* * *

He is slipping.

It's an all-too-familiar position for Blaine. He's got his feet set on the proverbial slope, trying to dig in his heels but losing traction all the same. He will, eventually, lose. His legs will grow tired, the spring shower will become a downpour, and once he starts falling there's no guarantee he'll be able to stop. In fact, the chances are slim.

It starts slowly. The dark clouds begin to roll in overhead and he knows full-well that he should catch these things early, but it's easier being ignorant, isn't it?

The storm starts with a light sprinkling, some over-tiredness and some undeserved snapping at his friends and loved ones, but it snowballs so quickly. Blaine knows better, but is still caught off guard when he lays his head down after a long day and wakes up in the morning to thoughts of _why am I even still alive?_

First there is this sadness, so heavy it almost crushes him. Soon – maybe tomorrow, next week, or next month – he will cease to feel much at all. That's when things will start to get bad. Sadness, Blaine can handle. It's the nothingness that kills.

Nothingness is unpredictable. Every time he falls into that hollow-hearted state, he has to wonder if he will ever be able to feel anything again or if this is the final straw. There is no such thing as happiness in the void because there is no such as sadness, or any other emotion. The void encompasses him when he's lost and confused, with nobody to hold onto and no idea where to go.

The real crux of it all is that, this time, he wakes up to this heaviness with his head snuggled into his husband's chest, their fingers intertwined, in what is supposed to be the highlight of their young lives. They're in love. They just got married. They're in New York City, chasing their dreams, living the life they've always wanted. He isn't lost or confused. He's supposed to be happy. Shouldn't this make him happy?

But he should have known, and he curses himself for it. Of course he couldn't have stayed happy for too long. He isn't allowed to have nice things.

Kurt snoozes on, oblivious. There's a hint of a smile on his face even in deep sleep, and his chest rises and falls in an even, steady pattern.

Even. Steady. Strong. Kurt has always been his rock, even if neither of them was always aware of it (and Kurt might not be aware even still.) Whether or not the inexplicable sadness that crashes over Blaine when the tide is high can be fought depends solely on the strength of his grip. If he clings to this rock tight enough, maybe he can avoid being washed away. Maybe he can have the unbelievable luck of escaping his own head once again.

Maybe.

He doesn't realize his fingernails are digging into Kurt's palm until Kurt flinches out of sleep and pulls his hand away. Bleary blue eyes search their surroundings for only a second before landing on a warmer brown hue.

And Blaine, much to Kurt's confusion and alarm, abruptly bursts into a fit of quiet tears.

Kurt is upright in a second, pulling Blaine with him. Hands, slender and sure, are gripping his shoulders. Blaine keeps his face buried into the crook of his husband's neck. He knows Kurt can feel the tears on his skin and hear Blaine's gasps for breath between slow exhales, but he's not ready to look him in the eyes. Not like this.

"Blaine, honey?" Kurt is asking, alarm evident in his voice. "What is it? Are you hurt? What's going on?"

A hand flies up to his forehead, probably feeling for fever, and moves to the small of his back to steady his shaking when it finds none. Blaine doesn't respond. He doesn't want Kurt to freak out any more than he is, but he's just barely holding back the tidal wave. If he opens his mouth, it will all come pouring out and drown them both.

Kurt lets him stay there for another moment, clinging for dear life. Then he pushes on Blaine's shoulders, forcing him to sit back and look him in the eyes.

"Talk to me." Kurt's voice shakes. He's the verge of tears himself. "You're scaring me, Blaine. What's wrong?"

Blaine inhales, cries, and says: "It's happening again."

Understanding dawns on his husband's face. Alarm is replaced with empathy and sadness. Blaine falls back into him, and Kurt lets him this time, arms encircling him tightly.

It's been almost a year since Blaine has felt anything at this heightened extreme, but Kurt still knows the sight of it well.

It used to go unnamed and largely unknown, this sickness that's plagued Blaine for nearly half his life. But after it almost tore the two of them apart for a second time, and they managed to save themselves by the skin of their teeth with a boost up from one Sue Sylvester, Blaine had spilled all.

He'd broken down on the first day of the honeymoon Sue had gifted them. He told Kurt about the chronic sadness and desperation to be needed, to have a purpose, that had driven him to Eli first and then later to the insecurity that Kurt didn't want or need him any longer. He told him how some days he woke up and felt horribly sad. Other times he could go weeks feeling and doing nothing, and then he would feel better and everything would be okay for a while until the cycle began again.

 _Depression_ , Kurt had realized aloud, and Blaine had balked at the unnecessary label, _you were depressed, Blaine._ But because the topic clearly bothered him, Kurt had let it be for the time being, content to know Blaine was okay and safe and happy in the here and now.

Then Kurt had taken a leap after the Dalton fire, initiating a conversation they both would have avoided two years ago. Blaine's first instinct was to withdraw into himself. Kurt was having none of it.

 _You have to tell me when you feel like that, Blaine,_ Kurt had insisted very firmly, both hands on Blaine's face, forcing the two to lock eyes. _I'm sorry I_ _didn't realize_ _you were hurting before._ _I really am._ _But I'm here now,_ _I love you,_ _and I'm listening. You just have to talk._

Once they got settled in New York, Kurt insisted on finding Blaine a good psychiatrist. Blaine almost resisted. But then he thought about how close he'd come to losing Kurt for good this time, how it all could have been avoided if he'd just gotten help when he knew he needed it, and he agreed. They were married now. This was not the time to start screwing things up.

It was the right decision. Married life was been going splendidly for them...right up until now.

Because now Blaine is ugly-crying into Kurt's silk pajamas on a beautiful Saturday morning for absolutely no reason at all, and he can't help the feeling that this is it. This will be the moment Kurt finally gives up on him, once and for all. The thought only makes him cling tighter, hands twisting the back of Kurt's shirt.

This should be entirely overwhelming for Kurt, who's been awake for all of two minutes. But he is solid as ever, even though there is a fine trembling in the hands that rub soothing circles into Blaine's back and ungelled hair.

This scares Kurt. It does because it should. It's a scary thing, and it scares Blaine, too. He just can't help thinking Kurt doesn't deserve to be stuck living in this fear alongside him.

Kurt is patient, holding Blaine until his sobs have died down into that uncontrollable hitching breath that comes after a heavy cry. The slope is still precarious as ever and the waves are still crashing, but they are bearable for the moment. Then Kurt pulls back again, presses a soft kiss to Blaine's forehead, and disappears into their adjoining bathroom without shutting the door.

He comes back with a small yellow pill in his hand.

"You've been taking it every morning?" Kurt asks. His voice is soft, not even remotely accusatory. Blaine swallows the pill dry.

He's leaning back against the headboard, legs pulled up to his chest. His breath is uneven and he's not quite calm yet. He doesn't trust himself to talk without losing it again, so he just shakes his head. Kurt settles beside him, body facing towards him, and rests his head on Blaine's arm, waiting patiently.

When he comes down from the overwhelming emotions coursing through him about ten minutes later, the skepticism and self-directed anger begin to set in. It was really stupid of him to get so upset over nothing. Kurt must think he's absolutely lost his mind (because he sort of has).

"I forgot a few times last week," Blaine says once his voice is back with him. He tries to sound calm but it comes out more robotic. It was stupid of him to forget his medicine. Sertraline takes several weeks to kick in, since it has to be built up in one's system. It doesn't work unless the dosage is consistent. He's been doing a lot of stupid things like that lately. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Kurt says. "It happens. We'll just start setting an alarm." He runs a hand soothingly up and down Blaine's back. "Do you want to move up your appointment?"

His appointments have recently gone from once a week to once every two weeks. That was probably a stupid idea, too.

Blaine takes too long to answer the question, spends a little too long staring blankly at the wall. Kurt holds his face in a gentle grip and ducks to meet his eyes.

"Talk to me," Kurt says softly. "Don't start hiding now."

"I feel like you're going to leave me."

Blaine doesn't mean to blurt that out. He certainly doesn't mean it to sound as paranoid and clingy as it does, but Kurt is entirely unfazed.

"You know that's never going to happen," he murmurs, pressing another soft kiss to Blaine's head.

"I woke you up early on a Saturday morning crying over nothing-"

"It's not _nothing_ -"

"And I don't know how long a person can put up with this kind of bullshit before they give up."

Kurt is silent for a moment, considering. He drops his gaze from Blaine, down to the ring on his finger. Blaine allows himself a brief moment of panic – does he _want_ to be divorced at 21, is that what he's asking for? – but it's quelled when Kurt looks back up, smiles, and kisses him. There is no judgment or resentment hidden beneath the affection like Blaine feared there would be.

"You're not thinking straight," Kurt says when they separate, and, well, yeah, that much was obvious. "Because clearly you don't remember the day I put that ring on your finger and promised you forever. And Kurt Hummel-Anderson does not make promises he doesn't intend to keep."

Blaine takes a deep, shaking breath and lets himself be pulled back into an embrace, his head dropping tiredly onto Kurt's shoulder.

"I'm being really stupid, right?" He laughed a bit tearfully at himself.

"It's not stupid," Kurt says. "You're just...having a bad day. That's not against the rules, you know."

"I love you. I really love you."

"I love you, too." Kurt's voice is soothing, his hands on Blaine's back are soothing, the way his chest moves when he breathes and the way he exists are all too exponentially comforting for words. They don't fix anything, but they make it all a lot easier to bear. "Please don't start doubting that now. In sickness and in health, Blaine."

"We didn't actually say those vows."

"Whatever. It still counts." Kurt smiles slightly at him.

And just like that, the tide begins to recede again. There is an interlude from the storm. The clouds still hang overcast above Blaine's head but at least they're not pouring down on him anymore.

They sit quietly, doing nothing but basking in the presence of one another, until Kurt convinces Blaine to get up and take a shower, eat a meal, and brush his teeth, because on a bad day these things make him feel more human and Kurt knows it.

Everything's not completely okay but they're both still breathing, still here, still in love. They're still fighting. And that will be enough for today.


End file.
